Not Worth The Read TBH
by PenFatale
Summary: Seriously, not worth the read. Getting back into the swing of the writing and the things and this is probably laughable. BUT IF YOU MUST READ, it's pretty much shipping Jake and Amy basically at any part of the relationship that you prefer. Yaaay... T to be safe? (Might turn into a fic of one shots, idk)


"Good work, Santiago. Leave the paperwork in my desk." The robot's smile went unnoticed by the detective, who like most others, couldn't tell a broken heart of his from his most joyous of moments.

Amy did what she thought was a discreet happy dance as the Captain walked away, although Teddy was sitting right across from her, still writing down the details of the case that now covered both of their jurisdictions, and saw the whole thing.

The elevator doors opened and closed like they did so many times each day. Boyle saw him first. "Jake?" He asked suspiciously, sitting up straight in his chair. "Everything ok?" His brows furrowed at the center when Peralta walked straight passed him without so much as twitching in response.

Jake was walking with hard, angry steps, faster than his usual pace, right up to Amy's desk.

"Jake?" She barely had time to let his name fall from her lips before he had pulled her chair back, grabbed her by the upper arms and yanked her uncomfortably to her feet. The desk behind her was the only thing stopping her from continuing to fall backward as he pressed forward against her and locked his own mouth against hers, still with the same angry force. She squealed but could not move away or protest. Teddy was on his feet and had his hands on the detective with the response time that only an experienced cop would have, but as he began to pry the two apart, Amy stopped him. "Wait." Teddy paused, both angry and confused, but respectful of the girl's words. Amy saw him then. That anger she'd seen, looking into his eyes then, was struggle. It was suffering. His nostrils flared and his eyes refused to tear themselves away from hers. "Jake, what's wrong?" She asked quietly, fear encroaching inside the adrenaline she felt.

"I got shot."

"What?" She said louder now, finally looking away from those eyes…

"Maybe ten minutes ago, a few blocks down. I didn't see his face but I know who it was."

"Jake." She stopped him then, eyes looking over his bent and awkward form, noticing exactly where he was favoring. His leg braced him, but his side was twisted and hunched ever so slightly trying to ease his pain. She pushed his leather jacket slightly to the side, and right where she'd anticipated, right above his right hip, was a mess of blood. Although she was expecting it, the knowledge that it was his blood, he who had so much history with her, he who made her smile endlessly and feel the upmost frustrations all at the same time – she felt sick. "Jake!" She cried out as he began to slide down himself. She was able to reach her hands up to his elbows and she tried hard to lower him down easily so he wouldn't hit his head. She was mostly successful. "Oh God, oh God, someone get an ambulance!" Her voice was shrill and bubbled with absolute panic.

Gina was on the phone faster than ever, and Terry was ripping his shirt off to cover Jake's wound – and Gina didn't even notice.

Boyle was right there beside them, reaching for any part of Jake that he could. "It's going to be ok, buddy, we're going to get you to a hospital." His voice wasn't soothing, but his words were welcome. "Remember when I got shot in the butt? We just had to apply pressure until-" he was cut off by the groans of those around him.

"Amy – Amy," Jake's voice was strong.

"Jake, Jake, yeah, I'm right here." She grabbed he hand that came up towards her voice.

He swore, long and drawn out. "Amy." He winced as Holt arrived and had him rolling onto his side, Amy awkwardly moving with him in his constricting grip. They somehow managed to slip the emergency blanket under him and roll him back, covering him just enough to help.

"You're going to be fine, Jake." Amy's voice cracked as her emotions overwhelmed her. "You're going to be fine. Just hold on. Stay awake. Say something. We're supposed to keep you talking. Oh God."

"Amy." Jake couldn't find her in the haste around him, everything was spinning.

"I'm right here," she said in as even a tone as she could muster, sliding closer to him so that her knees touched his good side.

"Kiss me, please." He smirked briefly and almost chuckled, stopping himself as the movement hurt too much. The kiss seemed too brief, and suddenly there were new voices, and more blurry faces, and he was being lifted onto a board. He heard the ding of the elevator, and a siren that he was sure he could make an awesome rap to go with. Then he woke up.

"Hey, buddy!" Boyle was sitting beside his head, face too close to his.

"Boyle, hi." He pulled his head to the far side of the bed, trying to escape from his overly enthusiastic friend.

"Good news, Jake," Boyle began with a huge and confusing smile. "The doctor says you're going to be just fine. They had to remove your penis and right leg, but other than that, you're doing great." A pause. "Man, I can't lie to you." He shook his head, pleased with himself. "Your leg is still there, that was a joke." Jake stared at him. "Gotcha! The penis thing was a joke too! You're so gullible."

"Boyle!"

Boyle stole himself and made an 'I'm done' gesture with his hands. "You're totally fine. Your jacket took most of the damage and the bullet didn't get in far enough to do any real damage. Actually, the doctor said, that four inches to the left, and twenty six inches higher, and it could have hit you in the face! You're a lucky man, Jake Peralta."

Jake rolled his eyes mercilessly, being at a total loss for words (it wasn't like him, it must have been the drugs he hoped he was on).

"Oh, Peralta, you're finally awake."

"That I am, Sir." Jake lifted his head to awkwardly greet Holt and Sarge walked in.

"Good news, you know, since you were in a coma for months," Holt began. "And also, we caught the guy who shot you!" Jake stared at him with an expression that could only be described as a full 'what the hell' expression. "I'm just kidding. It was only a day after the very quick and entirely successful surgery that you woke up. Bet I really had you going though." Was that a chuckle? No one could be sure. Jake shook his head with the same expression, Boyle cleared his throat. "

"Yeah, _and_ you're only going to be on forced medical leave for two to three months. Isn't that great?" Terry was grinning and dancing on the spot, but when he saw Peralta's look, he sobered. "Not actually kidding…"

Not a second passed before Jake, as loud as ever, shouted, "Oh, no!" startling everyone including the nurses outside. "I kissed Amy! I thought I was dying so I kissed her and now she obviously hates me, damn it, I ruined everything!"

The rest exchanged glances.


End file.
